


Why Me?

by ArchangelEquinox



Series: Once More to the Breach [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Haven (Dragon Age), Mages and Templars, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4872052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelEquinox/pseuds/ArchangelEquinox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Herald asks for Cullen's advice on who should help them close the Breach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Me?

            Cullen didn't notice that the Herald had sauntered over into the training yard until she cleared her throat next to him.  He didn't jump -- he was far better trained than that -- but he did do the smallest of double takes at her appearance.  After all, he'd just seen her an hour ago. 

            She looked like she'd been in a war since then. 

            Her dark hair, so neatly styled for the war council, was pinned haphazardly back, pieces sticking out from a messy bun that looked soaked with sweat.  A blue sweater, enormous and filthy, hung off one shoulder.  Its neckline was so stretched that its original shape was lost entirely.  What must have been a belt was looped about her slim waist, but the buckle was gone and it was now tied in a sloppy knot, its leather fraying badly at the ends.  Her boots still looked the same -- at least, they were the same color and height as her original ones -- but they were spattered with mud and scuffed in dozens of places.  Smudges of dirt coated all visible skin.   

            She was working her way out of her sweater as she stood next to him, the sweat pouring off her face smudging her dark make-up. 

            "Herald," he said as professionally as possible.  "Are you all right?" 

            Her expression suggested she had no idea what he was talking about, so he gave her outfit a quick, respectful, but significant look.  A smile broke over her face then, and Cullen was surprised by just how much her eyes lit up when it did. 

            "Oh this," she laughed as she finally dislodged her arm from the shirt.  "I'm fine.  Just playing with Sera."  She dabbed the wool against her face, but it didn't do much for the dirt. 

            "Playing?"  Cullen fished his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, keeping his eyes firmly above her neckline.  "For your face," he added, when she just looked confused again. 

            She accepted it.  "That bad, huh?"  When he nodded, her smile grew even bigger.  "Sera bet me that she could use stealth better than I can.  Which is bullshit.  So we've been stealing stuff from soldiers for the last hour."  The look on her face was extraordinarily pleased. 

            Cullen, however, couldn't imagine a more disruptive game.  Something about his facial expression must have given him away. 

            "Don't worry, Commander." The Herald rolled her eyes as dramatically as possible at him, and Cullen resisted the urge to huff.  "We put it all back. Well, most of it." 

            "That still does not explain the dirt." 

            "Oh, right.  Well."  She paused for a moment, wiping carefully under her eyes to remove the smudges without taking off all her makeup.  "I sort of… got caught."  Cullen raised an eyebrow expectantly.  "By one of your soldiers.  Big guy, dark hair, some kind of unusual tattoo all over his chin…?" 

            "Knight-Captain Rylen," Cullen supplied, his hands folding over the pommel of his sword. 

            To his surprised, she didn't blink at the Templar title.  "Anyone important?"  She wiped the handkerchief over her forehead now, and it came away dark with dirt.  She frowned at it. 

            "My second, actually." 

            The Herald had the decency to look sheepish.  "Oops. Don't worry, I gave it back, anyway. Or... well, okay, he took it back." 

            "May I ask… what, um, did he do, exactly?" 

            "Tackled me."  The statement came in such a matter of fact way that Cullen almost asked her to repeat it. 

            "Tackled you." 

            "Yep.  He could see me, evidently.  Means I need to work on my stealth."  She muttered this last part to herself, and went about re-folding the handkerchief. 

            "I see."  Cullen tried to push down thoughts of what that must have been like, tackling the Herald.  She certainly didn't look soft before him -- once removed, the sweater had revealed an expanse of skin crisscrossed with scars and the fine lines of the muscles in her arms.  Plainly put, she looked like a fighter, the rogue she was.  It was easy to see her as intimidating in council as well, when she was wearing an outfit befitting both her Herald and noble stations, all dark leather and polished silver and carefully styled hair. 

            But the undershirt also revealed the dark shadow of her cleavage under the top, the sweat-soaked outlines of her muscles through her shirt.  Its tight fabric showed off the smooth line of her stomach, guided the eyes to the tight fit of her leggings and the swell of her --

            His eyes flew back to his soldiers training, and he did not think of Rylen's tackle again.  He was definitely not jealous.  No, jealousy was for children.  He would remember that later, when he reprimanded his second. 

            When he finally remembered the Herald standing beside him, he blushed hard. 

            She didn't seemed to have noticed.  Instead, she was fiddling with the handkerchief, her eyes focused on two recruits training nearby.  Cullen followed her gaze, squinting to see the insignia emblazoned on the recruits' shields. 

            It was the Order's, the Sword of Mercy. 

            He sucked in a breath, about to apologize or explain, anything to cover up what he assumed was her discomfort with their weapons of choice.  Though even Leliana couldn't figure out why, the Herald seemed deeply uncomfortable with templars.   She seemed fine around him --- perhaps even too comfortable, if the fact that she'd handed him her grimy sweater and he'd accepted it without noticing was any indication.  But she shied away from all the others.  Her guards during her brief stint in the Inquisition's dungeon still talked about the insults she'd hurled at them.  He assumed the fact that she was not there reporting that she'd killed one of his men for tackling her was due to her not knowing Rylen was a templar when it happened -- otherwise, it would not have surprised him. 

            "Herald," he began, sucking in a breath.  "I know you don't much, um, well, care for templars, but their weapons are effective for training, and they are all we--" 

            She interrupted him, her eyes still trained on the soldiers.  "Who should I go to for help, Commander?" 

            Cullen nearly choked on his words.  "I'm… um, I'm sorry?" 

            The Herald turned to look at him now.  "To close the Breach.  Who should I ask for help, the mages or the templars?" 

            The question surprised him.  They had spent hours in council debating this question, and it had always come down to the Herald to make a decision.  Thus far, she had refrained. 

            "Herald, if you don't mind me asking…" 

            "Talia." 

            "I'm sorry?" 

            "My name, Commander," she said, her eyes boring into him.  "It's Talia.  Herald is too… Andrastian? Is that a thing?" 

            Cullen chuckled despite himself.  "Perhaps, yes."  She smiled at him.  "All right, Talia.  If you don't mind me asking, why ask my opinion?  You've heard it before.  Are you expecting it to change?" 

            The woman before him avoided his eyes now.  Instead, her hands wandered up to her hair and started removing its bindings.  She stared off into the distance as she worked, accumulating a mouthful of pins as her hair gradually fell to her shoulders. 

            Cullen looked away.  It was too familiar, too intimate, and he didn't handle intimate situations well. 

            When she eventually met his eyes again, Talia looked like a different person.  "Because I trust you," she said simply, finally, and Cullen felt something in his chest let go. 

            "Me? Why trust me?"  He had never cared until now. 

            "Well, in case you forgot, less than two months ago, Cassandra tried to have me executed.  We've worked together since then, but she's not exactly warm and fuzzy."  Cullen chuckled, caught himself, and rearranged his face so it was back in his standard scowl.  The Herald-- _Talia_ \--smirked and kept going.  "Leliana terrifies me, because I have both a brain and a past.  I'm not convinced she's ever saying what she really feels, so why should I listen?" 

            "She can be intimidating," Cullen hedged.  Talia glanced at him. 

            "Can be?" 

            "She is kind, under it all," he added.  The Herald only rolled her eyes. 

            "Be that as it may," she dismissed, and kept going.  "Josephine is just trying not to piss people off -- which is inevitable, in a war, so why bother? We're always going to piss somebody off." 

            Cullen found himself nodding along with this last statement and tried to reserve his opinion.  "That explains why you do not wish to listen to them.  But you've made your dislike of templars clear.  So why listen to me?  I used to be one, after all."  It was still too hard to believe. 

            "Because a few months ago I was a scribe, and before that I was a bartender.  Not a lot of big decision making happening there.  And since I arrived, you are the only person who has been decent to me."  She was shivering now, the body heat from her game with Sera fading, and he held her sweater out.  "See?  Decent." 

            Cullen gave her a small smile as she accepted it, trying not to seem too pleased.  Her fingers seemed to linger against his, but he assumed it was just his imagination.  "I'm… flattered, I suppose." 

            "You should be."  Her voice was muffled from inside her enormous sweater.  "Now," she said as her head popped out the neck.  "What would you do?" 

            He turned to face her, his body parallel to hers instead of facing his troops.  "I would seek the templars," he told her without hesitation.  "There is too much danger with the mages, especially after what you reported from Redcliffe." 

            She wasn't nodding yet, but he could see her thoughts collecting.  Cullen went on, the Commander taking over as he spoke of tactics and magic suppression, risks and benefits, and his hopes for the templars' future.  Throughout his speech, his voice stayed smooth and steady. 

            When he was finished, he brought a hand up self-consciously to rub the back of his neck.  "That is just my, um, opinion, of course."  This last sounded faltering even to his ears. 

            The Herald did not seem to mind. 

            "Then that's what we'll do," she said, decision in her voice.  She smiled up at him, light dancing in her eyes, and her expression cleared.  "Between the two of us, I think we can persuade the others, don't you?"  When he nodded, she clapped her hands once.  Fresh energy seemed to flood through her.  "It's decided.  I'll make it official at the next war council."  She touched his arm, warmth seeking his skin even through his armor.  "Thank you for your help, Cullen." 

            He wasn't sure how to respond.  Could her decision really have come so easily?  "I seek only to serve, Herald."  When she nodded and stepped away, Cullen returned his attention to the troops.   Training was almost finished for the day, and he needed time to process this change of plans.  Never before had he thought the Inquisition would seek the templars; it seemed like too much stood between the two organizations.  Now it seemed like there was hope: he could save some of his brothers, his once-beloved Order could have a chance of renewal, and the Inquisition -- 

            "Commander?" 

            He turned back to her, his eyebrows raised expectantly.  They'd talked everything through; had he missed something?

            "You don't stumble over your words when you talk tactics.  I like that," she said softly, not meeting his eyes. 

            Cullen turned red up to his ears. 

            "Yes, well, um…"  He realized he was stammering again, and cleared his throat, pulling himself up to his full height.  "Thank you, Herald. That is, Talia." 

            She smiled, her emerald eyes soft.  "Don't worry, Commander.  I like it just fine when you stammer too."  

            And she was gone.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
